PICKLE!
by CountryPeach05
Summary: Logan's in one heck of a sticky wicket. Can the guys help him out in time?...Does he really want their help? Extremely belated gift for my dearest asdfghjklblah! Rated T for mild language, mild Logie whump and awkward subject matter. TWO-SHOT!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everybody! So you guys know Caitee, right? Super cute, super sweet, _dang_ good little writer? Lover of all things pickles… Well after my one-shot "Logan Gets His Wiiiings!" she suggested I write something where Logan does a potty dance. Now this is waaaay outta my comfort zone, but you don't say 'no' to Caitee. You just don't. So, I wracked my addled little brain and here is the zany bit of horrible madness that came out. Yep. This is basically a story about urine. Because I can, and because it's Caitee. Those offended by BTR pee, be warned. Are you really still reading? M'kay. This is your last chance to turn backkkk…**

**Enjoy, Caitee! This one's for you. Throw me a nice funeral when I die of embarrassment! XP **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush.**

PICKLE!

"Milkshakes!" Carlos shouted, leaping in excitement as he blurted out another proposition.

Kendall crinkled one sea-green eye, hand running across his middle thoughtfully; fingers floating over the fabric of his heather-gray Henley as he shook his head. "Oooh—stomachaches…"

"Smoothies!"

"Too filling..." James announced plainly, _his_ eyes glued on the handsomeness reflecting in his favorite hand-mirror; fully engrossed in the strangely comforting sensation of tiny teeth massaging his scalp while his lucky comb smoothed every shimmering hair into what he deemed the swoop of perfection.

"Slushies!"

"Eh," Logan mused uncertainly, clicking away at his laptop. The clean-cut genius glanced up at Carlos, shrugging with honesty. "Not really feelin' the brain-freeze today…" His slender fingers grazed over the Ctrl+S key combination before snapping the computer closed on his lap.

"Soda!"

"Nah," James diverged, finally setting his plastic beauty companions aside in exchange for the TV remote. "It'd keep us up all night…"

Carlos hummed, puffing air out of his round cheeks in a moment of contemplation before finally shouting out the greatest 'logical' thing that came to his mind.

"**Red Bull!**"

The three other boys' heads snapped up at the lively Latino's ecstatic proposal; their jaws slack with amusement and disbelief.

"_Even __**worse**_!" Kendall exclaimed disapprovingly, immediately shooting down the horrendous suggestion. "Dude—_did you _forget_ what happened last time_?"

"IT WAS FUN!" Carlos cried happily; cocoa eyes full of light. Kendall face-palmed.

"Uh, yeah," James snorted, scoffing at his roommate's oblivion. "It _was_ fun. UntilLo-GAN_ threw up everywhere_!" The pretty boy flipped his hair, turning around and bugging his eyes out at the scrawny perpetrator with a teasing glare. Logan huffed defensively, slapping at the taller brunette while Kendall folded his arms knowingly, leaning against the counter with a lop-sided grin; his thick eyebrows spiked in remembrance of the mucky incident.

"Oh…" Carlos finally recalled, hamster wheels slowly turning again in his ADHD brain. His lips pursed together and he glanced down at his sneakers in mild embarrassment, focusing more effort into his thoughts.

The others came to stand beside him; arms crossed, eyes to the ceiling, fingers tapping their chins in like concentration.

They needed to think of something they could do for entertainment. Something with equal parts fun and idiocy. Hopefully this time without any broken bones, destroyed property, eternal groundings, or excessive vomit to clean up.

After all, boys had to be boys. Denying a teenaged male that basic right could equal their inevitable death. It was a well known fact. If they didn't party, they could die. Shirts and ties, tight dress shoes, things like that—might make them die. And if they couldn't enjoy a little good-natured rivalry among friends, if they didn't place the occasional bet or make wagers concerning superior sports ability, random acts of stupidity and dominance in all events involving or pertaining to disgusting bodily functions…

Well, then _they might just die_.

BTR did not want to die.

And so, here they were: Another day, another afternoon at apartment 2J, and yet another ridiculous competition for The Palm Woods' infamous, tight-knit, ultra-competitive, teenage boy quartet.

"Water-drinking contest!" Kendall yelled suddenly, with a loud snap of his fingers. His jade eyes gleamed as he pointed at the rest of the group for approval.

"Water?"

"Yeah! What could go wrong with water?" The leader declared, tearing open the door of the refrigerator, "Last one to pee wins!"

"Nooo," Logan moaned, "That's stupid…"

"Oh Logie, you're just mad you're gonna lose." Kendall *_tsked*_, not letting his roommate's wet-blanket attitude dampen his competitive spirit as he continued to dig through the chilly shelves and bins.

"Haha, yeah dude," Carlos chuckled, "First one out, every time!"

"Oh, don't pick on Logan, Carlos," James mock-scolded, wrapping his arm around the future doctor and giving him a playful shake, "this tiny body can only hold so much!" he sing-songed, before sticking his index finger out and tapping the frustrated brunette on the nose cutely; as if the shorter boy were a cuddly little stuffed animal instead of his very irritated, same-age peer. James giggled as Logan elbowed him roughly in the ribs, wrenching out of his grasp in annoyance.

"_Shut up_! You guys are always picking on me! –I could win if I wanted to!"

Kendall, Carlos, and James fell silent for beat, staring back at their flustered buddy, before bursting into a raucous fit of laughter at his high-strung declaration.

"No you _couldn't_!" Kendall chortled, finding his breath, "You couldn't last half an hour!"

Logan was mad now. "I_ could_ beat you. I could beat all of you if I had to!" He yelled, waving his hands around frantically at the other three. "—You wanna see?"

"Ooh, Logan. Are you making a bet?" James queried, interest peaked. This was a rare event.

The smart one clapped his hands against the kitchen counter, slowly leaning forward, expression devoid of all jesting. "Yes. YES, I AM." He glared up at his pals seriously, spitting the confirmation through his teeth.

"_Make it worth my while_."

* * *

"Okay…" Kendall mused. The leader crouched at the kitchen counter, eye-level behind a straight row of translucent, sweating water bottles; the slick condensation running down their foggy sides and forming rings around each where their bases met the countertop. "Here goes guys," His pale jade orbs appeared to dance behind the crystal liquid, distorted by the curve of the bottles he peered through, while twisting off each round, white cap; the thin bottle necks crackling under the pressure of his fingertips as he forced them to release. "The rules are simple." He flicked his fingers, cool little droplets splaying from the ends of their tips as he rose, wiping his hands down his jeans. "One hour to drink as many bottles as possible. Then, _we wait_."

The blonde walked around the counter, waving at the brimming containers with a Vanna White-esque flourish. "Logan, if _anyone_ of us, ANYONE," he explained, pointing between Carlos, James, and himself, "pees before you do, we'll give you _twenty dollars_. A piece." Kendall grinned wryly. "That's a three-to-one chance at sixty bucks."

"But—If you pee first…and you _will_," James continued, cutting off Logan's money-spending daydreams before their proper conception, "You have to do all our homework for a month, _and_…" The pretty boy tipped his head to the side arrogantly, finger to his lip, "You have to…_dress up like a girl next concert_!"

Logan gasped, appalled by the humiliating demand; but recovered his cool quickly with a clever counter-wager.

"Twenty-_five_ a piece…and you lick Gustavo's bare feet."

"Yay!" Carlos cheered. James wacked him in the back of the head.

Kendall reached out quickly and pulled the two into a quick huddle; talking to them hastily and peering up every few seconds to glance over at Logan who waited patiently at the bar, brow arched.

Another second of muddled whispers, then the three straightened up, turning back around.

"No feet. _One hundred_ even." Kendall proposed. "Do we have a deal?"

Logan stared back, poker face full-on, taking time to weigh his options. Finally, the brunette moved, giving a solid nod as he threw his hand out to shake. "Deal." He replied; his cool exterior cracking into a dimpled grin as all seriousness instantly evaporated and the four of them ran for the counter; scrambling over top of each other to snatch up and guzzle their first of many full pints of the chilly, spring water.

* * *

"And…time!" Kendall announced; he and his three companions gasping with relief as they jerked the mouths of their unfinished bottles away from their dripping lips, and slowly crawled their way out from under a mountain of empties; their tummies saturated and sloshing with water.

The leader's hand settled over his stomach, feeling the cool liquid move inside him as he made it to his feet. "So now we wait," He glanced once more at the clock. "The rest is up to nature."

…

"Goal!"

"Whoohoo!"

"Yeah, that's two outta three, we win again!" Carlos shouted, doing a victory dance around the dome hockey table.

Kendall laughed, "You guys wanna play another round, or should we stop now? Anybody?" He cast a wicked glance across the dome at James, "Does Logie need a potty break?"

"Hmm, I don't know," James giggled, poking at his teammate's ribs; "Do you, Logie?" he teased, batting his eyelashes cutely at the little teen who sneered back at him, rolling his eyes.

Logan grabbed the mini puck from the table return and dropped it in, grabbing hold of his spindles with determination. "Make it four out of five."

…

"Nothing on…" Carlos sighed, dropping the TV remote on James' lap.

Forty-five minutes later, they'd grown tired of dome hockey and flopped onto the orange couch, only to find nothing worth watching.

James grunted his agreement and picked up the discarded remote; mindlessly flipping through the same set of channels, bored out of his mind too, until he felt Logan suddenly stiffen beside him. He chuckled, immediately clicking back to the commercial for a tap water filtration system featuring a beautiful, panoramic view of Niagara Falls.

"Ooooh…does this bother you, Logan?" James cooed innocently. He dialed up the volume.

Carlos leaned across James, "Pssssssssssssssssssssssss…" the Latino hissed low and long in the brainy boy's ear; drawing back in surprise and rubbing his stinging cheek when Logan's slap let him know he'd had enough.

"Don't do that," Kendall corrected, slinging Carlos over his lap to switch seats with him; like a parent separating two bickering children. Now finding himself beside James, the leader snatched the remote from his hand, changing it from the instigating water commercial to a channel more age, or maturity level, appropriate.

The sound of a laugh track filled the apartment as an uncomfortable looking, poofy-haired character swung his arms and legs in strange, jerky movements on the screen.

"_Dude," _his smaller and more fashion-forward partner replied, glaring at him from a curtain of auburn bangs, _"You've been doing that for half an hour; if you have to pee, then pee already!"_

Carlos and James guffawed loudly. Of all the episodes of 'Drake & Josh'…

"_I get stage fright-"_

"_We talked about this; you just bend your knees, wiggle your hips, and think about waterfalls,"_

"OFF!" Logan shouted over their peals, violently yanking the remote from Kendall's fingers and punching in the button as the screen fell black, "Turn it off RIGHT NOW!"

"Turn off wha-?" Mama Knight appeared in the doorway, and began to ask, before half-tripping on a clear plastic cylinder in the floor. The boys leapt up on the other side of the room, as if the effort could have stopped her near tumble. Catching her balance, Mrs. Knight scooped up the empty bottle, gaze trailing into the kitchen where the recycling bin sat, overflowing.

"Good grief," she muttered, trying to crush the stray bottle into the can. "You guys get thirsty today?" She laughed softly, a little bemused. "Geez, it's a good thing FoodWay has twenty-four cases on sale two for $5.50 this week,"

The apartment door opened again and Katie walked in, wrapped in her hot pink and orange striped beach towel; dripping wet, flip flops squishing from the pool. Droplets of water pattered loudly across the hardwood as she made a bee-line for the kitchen. Logan crossed his legs.

"Uh-uh!" Mama Knight scolded, intercepting the little girl before she had reached the refrigerator, "Take it to the shower first, Katie- You're ruining this floor!" She smoothed the soaked strands from her daughter's eyes, spinning her towards the bathroom; then snagged a kitchen towel hanging over the oven door handle and began mopping up the trail of tiny chlorinated puddles.

"Okay guys," She finished, tossing the towel aside on the counter, "I'm gonna run downtown and take advantage of that bottled water sale while it's still on. Be good and take out the recycling for me." The muffled hiss of the shower coming to life sounded in the background as she grabbed her purse. And with that, Mama Knight was back out the door.

* * *

Approximately two hours into their contest, and five minutes into Katie's shower, the soft, continuous sound of such gently flowing water was finally starting to get to not only Logan, but the other three boys as well. And it didn't help matters much that the constant, torturous noise only served to further solidify—emphasize even—the dreadful fact that the apartment's lone bathroom was currently occupied.

Carlos wiggled a bit in his seat, before leaning over towards his best friend; "_I gotta go_…" he whispered, somewhat loudly, into James' ear,

The living room had grown increasingly still over the last few minutes; the boys all settling back into a tense arrangement around the couch; no one really feeling like running around now or gloating much anymore with their bladders continuously tightening as each slow second passed.

Kendall sat to the left of the duo, seemingly engrossed in a hockey game on TV, posture outwardly relaxed as he _internally_ struggled to ignore the perpetual cascade in the background.

James frowned, frustrated at the leader's annoyingly cool exterior; but smiled when he glanced to the right side of the room.

"Just a little bit longer, buddy," he whispered back to Carlos, "Look at Logan; he's gonna give out _any_ second now." The pretty boy flashed a confident grin, elbowing the Latino as he made a quick gesture to their right.

On the far end of the couch, Logan sat slightly bent forward; eyes closed, lips tight, arms discreetly winding downward to snake around his knobby knees. Their friend looked nothing short of uncomfortable, face pinched and wearing a humorless, aggravated smile; desperately trying to block out the offending water stimuli.

Thirty seconds later the water shut off and Katie emerged, towel-drying her damp, auburn brown hair. She halted in the middle of the kitchen, giving her 'brothers' a quizzical once over.

Kendall leaned back into the couch; expression collected yet, legs crossed at a suspiciously unnatural angle. James sat upright, beaming, overtly inconspicuous smile, knees together. On the other side of him was Carlos, both hands shamelessly clutched over his crotch. Then Logan. Logan looked like a time bomb ready to blow any second.

"Water drinking contest?" She deduced, throwing a tiny hand on her hip. Then quipped matter-of-factly, "Ten bucks on Logan."

That broke the silence.

"Logan ? !" Kendall and James shot up.

"He never wins!" Carlos exclaimed.

"Ha!" Logan shouted, "_Thank you_, Katie! See? Someone believes in me!"

"Eh," She smiled, tossing the towel around her neck with a shrug, "I'm feelin' charitable," a mischievous smirk flashed across her face and her hand shot out suddenly, turning the kitchen faucet open full blast. She giggled hysterically as Logan shrieked and blew past her, slamming the bathroom door behind.

"It was worth it." She laughed, stuffing a ten dollar bill into her brother's hand before reaching into the refrigerator for a cup of chocolate pudding and retreating towards her room. Kendall shook his head as they watched her walk away, still snickering.

"Whew!" James turned off the faucet and slouched against the counter, relieved. "Finally." He chuckled weakly, eyeing the bathroom door. "I thought he'd never cave in!"

"I know, right? Dang, he lasted longer than I thought," Kendall agreed.

"Yeah," Carlos nodded, "I thought _I_ was gonna lose there for a second!"

"Oh, yeah. Totally…Mmmhmm…" The other three continued with their small talk, inching near the bathroom with sneaky side steps and subtle backwards movements; each boy silently planning how to break past the other two as soon as it vacated.

But, a weird squeak put those devious mental plans to a quick halt, and they spun around just as Logan came flying out, plowing over all of them in an wild, unidentifiable mood.

* * *

"Holy crap, Logan—it's just a bet," Kendall chortled, dodging the smallest one as he slammed past them and began feverishly pacing around the living room. "Geez. You don't have to be such a sore loser."

"—_I didn't lose_." Logan clipped.

James rolled his eyes at the unnecessarily snippy denial. "Um, yes you did. You totally just—"

"NO. I didn't."

"You're telling us that you did _not_ just pee right now? Dude, you were just in the bathroom!"

"No, honest; I didn't," Logan conceded. "I was going to, but," The brunette's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink and he cast his gaze downward; rubbing the back of his neck, "I…have a little _problem_."

"What are you saying, Logan?" Kendall queried in concern, squinting at his coy-voiced roommate.

Ever 'tactful', Carlos decided to offer his opinion, "I think he's talking about his—"

"—No, no, no, no, no, no, no!—I'm not, I don't, I—I," Logan cut him off, clearly embarrassed, "It's just, I, _ohh_—I'M STUCK IN THESE PANTS, _**OKAY**_? ?"

Kendall, Carlos, and James stared back at their flabbergasted buddy; two full seconds passing while his words registered before they all three collapsed, laughing and rolling on the apartment's hardwood floor.

"This is _NOT _funny, guys!" Logan screamed, jerking hard on the zipper.

James stood up, then fell across the countertop, slapping it between guffaws and switching to Kendall's back when the teary-eyed blonde began to strangle on his own riotous cackling.

Carlos continued to roll the floor in mirth; his laughter intensified by the reactions of the others as they choked and snorted, while Logan continued to tear madly at his disobedient fly.

"OH HooHOO…Oh stop! Stop it, Logan! You're gonna make me pee MY pants!" The giggling Latino whooped, squeezing his sides.

Logan gave one more angry tug and stomped over to his three friends, eyes turning sad when he got up in their faces, "_You know I have a weak bladder!_" he nearly cried.

"_Yeah_, and we were counting on that to win. How the heck were we supposed to know you'd go and get stuck in your pants? !" James retorted. He and Carlos burst into howls as Logan let out a bizarre sound of urgency and clapped his knees together, bouncing around the kitchen awkwardly.

"Knock it off!" Kendall scolded, silencing the raucous two. "Logan, are you sure you're really stuck?" The leader asked calmly.

"Um, oh, I don't know— _**YES**_! ! !" Logan exploded, then bit his lip; stewing crankily. Carlos wondered if he might burst a neck vein like the angry, hot-headed people he saw in Saturday morning cartoons.

"Oh well, then that's too bad. Dibs on the bathroom!" James exclaimed, halting mid-stride as Kendall grabbed his shirt, pulling him back.

"Noooo. We're in this together, guys." The more brow-endowed stated, in his firm, motivational tone. "Brothers of the ice," An inspirational melody seemed to swell somewhere in the background, picking up an unspoken queue. "We've been there for each other, thick and thin, win or lose, since pee-wee hockey; by george, and_ no one _will pee_ until we get Logan _out_ of these pants!"_

The other three nodded their approval determinedly; hanging on their leader's every word like an eager church congregation.

"Together?"

"_Together_!" They replied, throwing their hands into a pile.

"Hey, guys…" Kendall began quizzically, dropping his arm as all seriousness instantly dissolved. "…Do you ever wonder…where_…where does that music come from_? ?"

"Well…"

"I always thought…"

"Now that you mention it, actually…"

"Hmmm…"

The four took hold of their chins, gazing up to ponder this mysterious occurrence when Kendall's phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He flipped the phone open, pulling the speaker away from his ear nearly the same second he'd uttered 'Hello'.

"_**DOGS!**_** STUDIO IN THIRTY MINUTES! ! !** *_click*_"

"Well," Kendall closed the phone coolly, slipping it back into his jeans, and repeated the message; though it was clear that they, and quite possibly every current occupant of The Palm Woods, had heard it. "That was Gustavo." He grinned wryly, as if the others had no idea of that indubitable fact, and continued a touch sarcastically, "He says he'd appreciate it very much if we'd meet him at the studio in half an hour."

* * *

"Studio? Today? –_Now_?" Logan whined. Any minute, Kelly would be showing up to collect them; and here he was, in this awful predicament. How could things possibly be any worse?

It was a good fifteen minutes from the Palm Woods to Rocque Records, and that wasn't even counting on the sure-to-be hectic L.A. traffic.

James felt bad for his partial responsibility in Logan's current situation, really he did, but that drive could get lengthy and these were new pants…

"I'm gonna wash _the face_!" James announced, wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes and instantly dodging into the bathroom.

"Ah!" Logan squeaked, then crammed his fingers up to the knuckle inside his ears and ran for his and Kendall's room, terrified he might hear the sound of running water. "La, la, la, la, la, LA, LA, LA, LALALALALALALALALALALALALALA AAAA! ! ! !"

…

James closed the door behind him gently and turned on the faucet. If he timed this just right, no one would ever know. He laughed manically, mentally applauding himself for coming up with such an ingenious plan as he lifted the lid…and dropped his zipper.

…

Kendall crinkled his brow, eyes following Logan curiously for a moment as he fled down the hall and disappeared. The leader turned back to Carlos then, about to say something when a strange realization stuck.

"Wait a minute." The blonde mused, pointing into the kitchen, "_Why_ did James close the door?"

…

James' careful stream turned into a blast when the bathroom door burst open without warning.

"AHH!" Both boys screamed in unison; Kendall appalled, James outright startled and trying to hold it steady, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? !"

"Dude, you're supposed to knock!—" James yelled.

"—_AH_! NOO—_Put __**that**__ away_! !—" Kendall demanded, eyes wide.

"—I _can't_ stop it NOW!" James shouted back, over his shoulder.

"_JAMES! _You—" Kendall started, ears suddenly taking note of the rushing water in the sink beside him; the sound causing an involuntary wiggle to ripple through his lanky frame. He pressed his thighs together, _hard, _and attempted to continue with his reprimand; "That was a hundred bucks—" he began again, slowly dipping up and down at the knees, one hand tightly gripping the edge of the counter, "How could you just…How could you…" The blonde's head alternated between James and the water spout until the distraction became too much and Kendall whirled to his left, swiftly shutting off the gushing knob.

While he was able to turn that off quickly, the absence of running water only served to expose the teasing, trickling sounds of James finishing up.

"…_Oh-mah-goshhhhh_…" The leader moaned, hands between his knees. He dipped down to the floor; once more fighting the twinge before he could hold out no longer and bounced straight back up, in hockey mode, shoving the indisposed pretty-boy out of his way.

Carlos appeared in the door at this very peak of chaos. His dark, round eyes wide with amusement as they watched Kendall's violent descent upon their toilet; the impressive body-check that sent James toppling headlong into the bathtub, all the while still trying to zip up his pants, hands fumbling at the fly of his designer jeans; the noisy chime of silver metal rings pulling and clinking together harshly as he fell, long legs entangled in and bringing down half of the water-misted, polka-dot shower curtain with him.

"HAHAHA! You guys _lose_!" he chortled gleefully, "Logan is gonna—"

"—_**BOO**_!"

"AHH!—" The Latino squealed, leaping with sudden fright. "_Awww_…" He groaned then, looking down, "**Dang it**_**, Katie**_! !"

The little prankster popped around the bathroom doorframe giggling hysterically until her pretty little eyes caught sight of the happenings inside.

"Ugh! GROSS! _Close the door_! ! !" Katie screamed, shielding her face and running away, possibly scarred for life.

James clambered out of the tub, rolling over the edge and onto the floor before making it to his feet beside Kendall just as the blonde zipped up. They both turned, looked down at Carlos' pants, and shook their heads.

"Okayyyy…" The leader replied awkwardly, reaching behind to flush the toilet. "Now that _we're_ better, maybe we can focus on helping Logan…"

* * *

**Wow. Okay, so surely you can tell by now that this is not supposed to be taken seriously, and this is definitely not supposed to be good, but I hope you can at least get a laugh out of the utter…messed-up-ness…of it…**

**I don't know if I quoted that Drake & Josh episode correctly, but I had to use it (Although I do not own Drake & Josh!) and that's as close as I could remember :P **

**Second half coming soon!**

**Thanks for wasting this part of your life with me :) Review if you feel so inclined…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! Wow...thanks for actually reading! And reviewing and favoriting and following, even. I've been a slacker, but I will definitely try to repond as soon as I get the chance to give you the attention you deserve :) In the meantime, how about what you came for? Here's the second part and conclusion to our story :)**

**Disclaimer: WHAT? I still don't own Big Time Rush? Well isn't that a surprise...**

* * *

The ride to the studio was not fun for Logan. At all.

The little brunette writhed in the beige leather backseat between Carlos and Kendall, squeaking and tensing up with every min_u_te bump in the road or gentle swerve of Kelly's car. It was nothing short of impossible to sit still.

He couldn't stand the seatbelt pressing into him; cinched across his hips, squeezing his lower abdomen like a bladder-killing boa constrictor.

He slid his fingers under the wide belt, lifting it away from his body and pulling out enough slack to encircle himself at least two or three times before he shakily punched the orange plastic button to his side and threw it off; realizing the super loose restraint would serve him absolutely no purpose in the event of a crash anyway.

He jiggled forward, curling a leg under his body; then tucked both in. No matter how he tried to sit, he just couldn't find a position. Both feet met the floorboard again and he clasped his knees together. He scrunched his eyes up in the silence and bit his lip. He was just about scared to breathe at this point.

Suddenly, James piped up, "Okay, new bet." Logan could hear the pretty-boy propose from his left near the window. "Five dollars says he wets his pants before we get to the studio,"

"Oh, yeah!" Carlos high-fived James as Kendall frowned at the two.

"That is so mean," The blonde began, "I'm not gonna be a part of this…" He turned to his left and took one half-glance at hopelessly wriggly Logan then finished on a different note, "…Okay, I'm in!"

"Ahh! How could you guys make a bet on something like this? I never—" Logan cried, then halted himself, twisting his legs together and cramming both hands between them, rocking back and forth. "Oh, man…"

"—_Hey_! Uh, let's talk about something else, huh?" Kendall scrambled, suddenly deciding that it just might_ not_ be so cool to have the person sitting hip to hip with you pee their pants, and likely yours too, "Let's…let's talk about…oooh, remember back in Minnesota…winter of 2009…"

"Oh yeah, that monster storm in eighth grade when I had to climb out my window because that huge snow drift covered up our door!" Carlos added, taking up the change in subject.

"Yeah, it snowed like five and a half feet! And we had all that time off from school to bobsled and make snowmen, and snow angels, and build snow forts—Ooh! And then don't forget that _amazing_ snowball fight we organized downtown," James enthused.

"I remember that," Logan smiled, relaxing a little, "Half the neighborhood got into it,"

"Haha, That was incredible!...Too bad we beaned the mayor." Kendall mused.

"Yeah, and our parents made us shovel sidewalks for free the rest of the winter." James replied, "Eh, at least we still got to play hockey after school and shoot hoops some at my Dad's house every now and then."

"Ooh," Carlos beamed, "Remember how we used to all stand on the back porch at your Dad's house and see who could write their name the biggest in the snow? I always loved peeing in the snow—"

"CARLOS!" James and Kendall shouted. Logan buried his face in his knees, scream-singing at the top of his lungs.

"You're not supposed to bring up _that_ subject," James yelled at Carlos over Logan's deafening 'LA, LA, LA's', "Peeing in the snow? Really, Carlos, C'mon!—"

"Yeah…I know, but…" The Latino shrugged, droning almost apologetically for a brief second before his eyes lit up and he continued again excitedly, "_Why_ is that _so fun_? !"

…

A good forty-five minutes had passed and since the boys had arrived at Rocque Records that afternoon; thankfully all dry and intact. A hellish warm-up session with Gustavo later, and it was finally time for their first break.

The four gathered around the white sofas just outside Studio A, plopping down and guzzling up the assortment of Fruit Waters provided for them compliments of Kelly. That is, everyone but Logan.

Logan, who was still preoccupied with other things.

"Hey, how about that one time when we built that camp fire, but we didn't have any water so we had to—"

"_Carlos_! Enough with the stories, already. You're bothering Logan; and I don't like to hear about pee when I'm trying to sit here and relax and enjoy my beverage!" James griped.

Logan moaned softly at what had to be at least the thirty-ninth mention of urination that afternoon, tightening his little butt cheeks on the edge of the ivory couch as he stared up at a speck on the ceiling; anything as a point of focus to distract him from his current situation.

Mercifully, he had been able to pop the riveted button at the top of those snazzy trousers, alleviating somewhat of the pressure against his swelling tummy. That had been his first plan of action, to race into the restroom upon arriving at the studio, hoping for a miraculous way out of those stupidly tight, James-approved, swag pants. After several minutes of unsuccessful zipper forcing, Logan had undone the brass-like button, managing to work the evil pants down around his skinny hip bones; but that was as far as he'd gotten before being interrupted with a sharp telling-off from Gustavo for holding up rehearsals.

"Hey, Logan," Kendall replied, pulling the other up from the couch and his miserable thoughts, "Gustavo just went to make a phone call, let's try it again," the leader made a stealth dash to the men's room then, followed by James and Carlos, trembling Logan in tow.

…

"If the pants were looser, you could just pull them off," Kendall mused, frowning at the tight pants, and tugging at them again anyway. The jeans slid down a couple millimeters before stopping stuck; tight and un-budging around the other boy's tiny hips.

"Err, I already tried that…ow!" Logan complained, clawing at the abusive denim as it dug into him low, pinching at his delicate skin.

Sympathetic, Kendall hooked his fingers through the belt-loops in an attempt to pull the pants back up to a more comfortable position, but only ended up issuing his poor buddy an abrupt and totally unwarranted wedgie as the stubborn waistband's suction gave way unexpectedly.

"Gahh! Kendall!"

"OOH! Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!..." The blonde rattled apologetically, releasing Logan immediately and backing away to let him deal with the _new_ pants problem.

Kendall leaned against one of the sinks then and knit his thick brows together, considering other methods.

"Maybe if we just break it, like split the zipper or something. I mean, your fly would have to stay open, but at least you could get your thing out." The leader pondered aloud, too lost in deep, problem-solving thought mode to notice the pink rush his modest roommate's fair-skinned face. "_Or_…you can't just, ya know," he gave an odd hand gesture, slightly bugging his green eyes, "get it out over the top, can you?"

"_No_, it's still too tight," Logan explained, trying to slip his fingers into the waist to demonstrate, "I can't even get my hand in there…"

"Danggit." Kendall sighed, slumping a bit in defeat.

Logan grimaced, cursing his luck. The pants were tight. So, _so_ unbearably tight. And the demon things had to be _shrinking_ now, too, with every second that passed; the two-legged denim devil's sole intention being to torture him indescribably before achieving their ultimate goal of cutting his spindly little body in two. Oh, it was terrible.

Logan let out a quiet whimper, drawing the attention of his three best friends. His smallish hands hovered over his aching belly as he looked back at their questioning faces, conceding brokenly, "_…it's starting to _hurt."

That was enough for Carlos; who deeply distressed by his friend's discomfort, launched into attack; releasing pure insanity on the restrictive fashion-wear enemy.

"GRRRR! COME…OFF…_STUPID PANTS_! ! !" He screamed, grabbing hold of the jeans in a two-fisted snatch and jerking them roughly, yanking and pulling, and tugging with wild determination.

"Ah! No!" Logan shrieked, as the Latino's fists wrenched at his waistband, tan knuckles mashing him in the belly and knocking him off balance, "Carlos…crushing my bladder!"

Carlos' intentions were honest, Logan knew that, but right now all of that pressing on his lower abdomen just made him want to pee all over the crazy helmet-wearing fool.

"Stop! AHHH! It's slipping!—It's slipping!" The brainy boy squeaked feeling a slight trickle threaten to dampen down below. He yelped, willing it to go back in as Carlos finally released him; the shuddering doctor-to-be's skinny little legs trembling uncontrollably with the strain of holding in way too much fluid for his svelte little body.

"Just let it go, Logan." James grimaced sympathetically.

Logan gasped at the absurdity. "You're telling me to—_In my pants_?" he whirled at James, gawking at the taller as if he were insane. "_No_! **What**? !"

"All I'm sayin' is that you'd feel a lot better if you'd just—"

"—_Yeah_, genius idea, James!" Logan cut him off, his voice escalating into a dark, hair-raising roar by the end of the sentence, "Then I'd be damp, _odorous_, and STILL STUCK IN THESE PANTS! ! !"

The other three winced back, blinking in shock for a few seconds before James found his voice again.

"Sheesh…" He muttered softly, offended by Logan's loud reproof, "I'm just tryin' to help…don't have to be so pissy about it…"

Kendall cocked an eyebrow at pouty James, and paused, index finger raised to scold, mouth open in disbelief. "Okay, that was doubly inappropriate." He attempted seriously, his stern reproach crumbling into laughter.

The blonde hid his face for Logan's sake, and once he was back in control, fist-bumped sulky James…innocently.

* * *

Harmonies were finally over. The fact that they'd all made it through to the next break was nothing short of miraculous. James and Carlos could barely focus on anything Gustavo had asked them to do for worrying over what would become of Logan and what plan Kendall would come up with. While they sang, Kendall's mind raced through scores of ideas. Logan simply hissed and wiggled, wondering about the permanent damage he was sure to accrue as the session dragged on.

But they had made it. And now, break-time found the four escaping once again to the spacious, white-tiled restroom; deep in the middle of their wise leader's next emergency pants-evacuation strategy.

"Okay, so we've determined it's the zipper." Kendall detailed, getting right down to business. "It's jammed. We can't get a hold of it well enough to split it apart, so we need to find some kind of lubricant to loosen it up. Something greasy like oil, butter, lotion or something…"

"OOH! Like my MAN-sturizer!" James snapped his fingers, instantly whipping a tube of Cuda moisturizer from behind his back. He turned to the mirror, caressing the container with a sexy growl, "For smooth, supple, kissably soft skin. Better wear ya—"

"—We don't need a commercial, James," Kendall rolled his eyes, "Just gimme the stuff!"

…

Gustavo banged the keys of his piano, blood boiling when he glanced down at his flashy, jewel-encrusted watch. "What is taking so long? !" he grumbled at Kelly, throwing himself up from the cushy bench and stomping out into the hall.

"Dogs! Less bathroom! We talked about this," he bellowed, barging through the men's room door, "I am this close to getting back the shock toilets—" The record producer halted, unable to register the sight before his infamous bugged-eyed sunglasses.

Logan stood in the middle of the floor, tee shirt tucked under his chin; the rest of the hockey-heads on their knees in the floor around him, huddled at his feet. James tugged at Logan's pants from behind, parting the denim fly wide; Carlos stood to the right, squeezing a mysterious cream from a mysterious tube into Kendall's hand as he knelt directly in front of Logan, rubbing his greasy fingers up and down the length of the raven-haired boys' pants' zipper. The four froze at the sound of Gustavo's entry, then slowly turned their heads in a simultaneous fashion towards their befuddled boss.

"Uh…ha, ha," James laughed nervously, peeking out from behind Logan's closed knees, "This looks _wrong_, right?"

"—_I don't wanna know_," Gustavo cringed, clearly thrown for a loop, "just…Hurry up!" He shook his head wildly, trying to clear the unsettling image and regain his terrifying mojo, "GET YOUR BUTTS TO THE DANCE STUDIO!" The producer yelled with more gusto, sending the four scattering for the door, "**NOW**! !"

* * *

It was bad when Katie had turned the kitchen faucet on back at the apartment. It was even worse suffering through the bumpy ride to the studio. Warm-ups, harmonies, Carlos' stories and all of that, were no less unbearable, miserable, or horrible.

But nothing, _nothing_, compared to the torture of dance rehearsals.

Time after time, they had been asked to repeat the steps Mr. X had taught them the previous week; and time after time, they believed they'd executed the routine perfectly, only to be yelled at and made to do it again.

'Windows Down' blared from the overhead speakers yet again and the quartet found their marks, grudgingly re-starting the tour routine.

"Do your best," Kendall shouted over the music to his band mates, "Maybe this time we can go home,"

The other boys nodded their heads in agreement, giving it their all, each movement precise, controlled, and perfect until the second verse struck, finding Logan out of sync and bouncing crazily all over the expanse of the mirror-walled, wooden-floored dance room.

"THAT WAS TERRIBLE!" Gustavo screamed, killing the music with a blast of shrieking feedback, "I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE CRAP _YOU_ WERE DOING, LOGAN—THAT WAS AWFUL—ALL OF YOU, BACK TO START, DO IT _**AGAIN**_! ! !"

Kendall, James, and Carlos shot their producer a dirty look and huffed back to their marks, but Logan stayed bunched up near the corner, unexpectedly bursting into tears.

"START AGAIN!" Gustavo demanded, about to flip the switch, "FROM THE TOP—" He dropped his chunky hand and sighed, looking into the booth to find a blubbering dog, "What's wrong with him, now? !"

"Ugh, Shame on you!" Kelly replied, whapping him disgustedly with her clipboard before running into the other room to coddle the sniffling boy.

"Ohhh…He's not really mad, Logan, it's okay, shh…it's okay," The kind assistant soothed, wrapping him in a careful embrace and sweeping his short bangs back to look at his pitiful face, much like a sweet pre-k teacher. "Hey, what's the matter?" she asked then, noticing the unmistakable pain behind his bleary eyes as he hissed through his teeth and curled in on himself, "What's wrong? Are you sick, Logan?"

"No," Logan gasped, pulling his knees together tight and starting to sob. He was in far too much agony now to even think about being embarrassed. He bit down hard on his bottom lip before he finally burst, blurting out the answer like a guilty child confessing to stealing cookies. "_I just have to pee_." He cried, hopping up and down, "_Really, _really_ bad_!"

Kelly glanced at the teenager curiously, "Is that all?" she laughed, relieved. "Well, then why don't you just go?" She furrowed her brow, confused when he didn't make a move to leave, "It's not that big of a deal, go on, and then we'll worry about dancing."

"I can't…" Logan managed breathlessly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He squeaked shrilly, turning his back so she wouldn't see him squeezing the front of his pants, desperately.

"Logan, Gustavo would let you go to the bathroom if you need to. He can't stop you guys from that. Go ahead and hurry back." Kelly coaxed, giving him a little shove.

"No. It's not that, Kelly. He can't pee." Carlos explained. Logan started to cry louder. Kelly's eyes went wide.

"You can't?" She pulled the whimpering brunette around, looking him over with concern; "Is something wrong—Why didn't you guys say anything? Do you need a doctor?" she began worriedly.

"We had a water-drinking contest and his zipper jammed," James detailed.

Kendall nodded forlornly and picked up the rest. "He's been stuck in those pants all day."

"And you can't get out, at all? Can't even pull them off?" Kelly queried, as the boys shook their heads. "Oh my gosh…Okay, okay, don't worry; we'll get them off somehow, we'll find something…" she assured, whirling around to scour the studio for something helpful when Gustavo appeared behind them, having heard the conversation.

"I know what to do," The producer declared, catching his frantic assistant by the arm. "James, Kendall—Get him into the bathroom so if he explodes it'll be on tile and not my nice floor!" He ordered tactfully, pointing his bejeweled fingers at each mentioned party, "Kelly, Carlos—you come with me!" The record producer spun on his heel, racing down the hall.

"Ooh! Are we gonna call the fire department?" Carlos cheered, taking off after him and Kelly.

"_No!_" The producer and assistant could be heard yelling back; as James and Kendall hooked Logan through the elbows, quickly carting him off in the opposite direction; feet dangling.

…

"..F.B.I.'s still on speed dial if you wanna…"

"_**No**__ F.B.I.,_ James…" The leader asserted as they pushed through the door, hauling their stiff-as-a-board buddy inside; and setting him down gently in the middle of the room like a well-placed statue.

Logan backed against the wall, not sure how much longer his knees could keep him up; his leg muscles weak and shaky from holding so tense; his glassy eyes casting an almost explicit gaze as he stared longingly, _lustfully_, at the line of urinals before him.

He hopped from foot to foot across the floor, his bladder sending him into another involuntary jig.

Kendall and James ceased their argument concerning the true duties

of the F.B.I. and watched Logan curiously as he bounced past them, toeing off a shoe at a time and leaving the fancy footwear behind; not wanting to count his favorite sneakers among the casualties of the inevitable.

Logan scuttled back over to the urinals, tears of craving flooding his mocha eyes. A flush washed up his neck, his breathing came fast and shallow as he paced in front of them; white porcelain angels. Down below, his own plumbing burned with the anticipation of sweet release…

Then suddenly, the door burst open with the thunder of footsteps and nothing but a blur and a glint of blinding steel as he was surrounded.

One solid blade slid into his waistband, grazing down the length of his hip bone; the feel of the cold metal sheers sending a violent shiver through his weary body.

"Ahhh! Be careful where you're poking those scissors!"

"—Move your hands, Logan!"

"Be careful where you're stabbing those!"

"—Hold still!"

"I can't!"

"—Stop moving!"

"—Cut along the zipper!"

"—I know what I'm doing!"

"AAHHH! Watch it!"

"Logan, quit wiggling!—"

"—Got it!"

*SNIP* One final clip to the fabric and the treacherous pants met their end, falling to Logan's ankles. The other three leapt to the side, barely able to clear a path in time as the desperate teen let out a shriek, leaping entirely out of the evil pants and his boxers too; having no time for undoing buttons. His little chalky white backside shining bare for everyone to see as he let out a euphoric moan, falling on the nearest urinal just as the geyser he'd been holding burst forth.

Kendall, James, and Carlos looked to each other, not sure which was more surprising: this bizarre display of relief, or the fact that they had actually lost a bet to Logan.

Beyond weirded-out, and with nothing left to do but make good on their word, the three swiveled silently, shielded their eyes from disturbing bare-butt Logie, and walked awkwardly out of the restroom to retrieve their wallets; Logan still groaning in the background.

THE END

* * *

**OH geez…that was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Please don't kill me, people. LOL. I swear I'll never write anything like it again!**

**Oh, dear Caitee…probably not what you expected, but I hope there was enough Logan-Potty-Dance in there for ya! The poor boy…**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Review if you feel like it! **

**Much love,**

**Emmaleigh**


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